Doing Laundry
by DSieya
Summary: Let's dispense with the friendly banter. sheldon/penny, oneshot, TLHC


**Originally posted at Paradox, the Sheldon/Penny LiveJournal community, for the February SweePs Fun serial. A short AU twist of the laundry room scene in The Large Hadron Collision.**

* * *

Sheldon is able to hear her approaching. He glances in her direction as she appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a light smile on her face.

"Hello," he says, attempting to convey the 'cool politeness' that he is given to understand expressed a lack of desire to interact.

"Hello," she replies, easily, not responding appropriately to his tone.

"All right, let's dispense with the friendly banter." Sheldon turns back to his clothes, placing a pair of socks in the optimal position on his folding board.

"I think you know why I'm here."

Sheldon looks at her again; her arms are crossed, one foot propped behind her, and there is a smirk on her face.

"I've been operating under the assumption that you're biding your time until they offer a Nobel Prize in waitressing or perkiness."

"Hah hah, very funny. At least one of us would be going to Stockholm."

Sheldon has a strong urge to roll his eyes toward the ceiling.

"No, I think you know why I'm here, _in the laundry room_."

He picks up a shirt, shakes it out, then looks at her suspiciously. He doesn't know the answer to this question and it bothers him.

Her smile getting wider, Penny walks slowly over, her hips swaying with each step. She stops a few inches from his left arm; her face is angled up and her eyes are steady as she reaches behind herself. There is the sound of paper scratching against jeans, and then a crinkling. Sheldon assumes she's unfolding something, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from her face; he is extremely wary of her motives as she's put him in this situation before, and knows his requirements—

Sheldon's train of thought is interrupted when Penny pushes his perfectly-formed piles of clothing to the side, crinkling the edges of shirts and pants he would have to refold and toppling piles of socks.

Then she puts the paper on the table, pressing and dragging her palm against to in a vain attempt to force it to lay flat.

Deciding later to scold her for ruining his work, he bends a little to focus on what she has written. It's newly printed; the paper is clean and straight (aside from the obvious creases) and the ink is sharp.

"Is this a _contract_, Penny?" Sheldon's simultaneously shocked and impressed as he picks it up and skims it. The language could have been more professional, and there are a few grammatical errors, but a contract is a contract. On the bottom, in purple ink, is Penny's scrawl that she likes to call a signature. He jumps as he feels her hand on his lower back, then jumps again, twisting around, when it wanders downwards.

She is laughing at him. "You said you needed one if we were gonna start this 'component to our romantic relationship'—" (Sheldon is frantically trying to concentrate on—much less read through—it as Penny, undeterred from his tearing away from her, slides her hands up his upper arms.) "—and it was gonna be a million years before I let _you_ write one, sooo..."

It always takes Sheldon by surprise when Penny kisses him. He doesn't know why, but if she doesn't tell him that she is doing so and if he isn't paying attention he's never quite sure what to think.

His mind is just starting that pleasant buzzing when a thought strikes him. He pushes her away, alarmed. "_Here_?"

Sheldon thinks Penny is trying to tell him something with the way she looks at him, which is rather unfair of her, as she knows he isn't particularly adept in that area.

"Well... we could wait until we're done with your laundry."

They stare at each other for a moment. Then Sheldon decides.

"Door," he orders.

Penny, who's situating herself on top of the folding table, gives him a look. With a huff, he goes over and closes it himself.

"All right! Ready to get started?" Her voice is bright. Sheldon stands before her, feeling a little sullen still, and brushes his eyes over the situation. Then he hears Penny expel a breath, take his wrists, and unceremoniously place his hands at her hips. His knuckles knock against the surface of the folding table, and he's momentarily grateful that he disinfects it every Saturday night before he puts his laundry atop of it.

He manages to catch up just as she's drawing him down for another kiss, and feels a little proud of himself that he's able to reciprocate instantly. When her hands brush against his sides in a way she _knows_ tickles, he jumps again, and may or may not have giggled.

"Wait—Penny—" (She's laughing against his neck.) "—there's a rule that—"

"Yeah, yeah, clothes must be worn while doing laundry at all times, but we're not doing laundry—"

It's a loophole that Sheldon seizes.

It isn't until after that he remembers he'd neglected to sign the contract, but at that point, he's not so sure it even matters.


End file.
